Found
by ohhdear
Summary: Zim was lost, has he been found? -rewrite-


_(I demand restitution. -grabby hands- This was a big pain in the ass, a rewrite of something I did over a year ago. Tell me how much you hate it, what I could improve on, etc.)_

_Feeeelings. _Feelings brought nothing but trouble and unending pain, something he already had to shift through on a unpleasant daily basis. It was one of the few things about being human he hated.

A little more an a simple rivalry had developed between he and the enemy. Dib was not stupid, he saw the change. Or, more importantly, felt it.

Hated it.

He fully realized it was mostly his fault, he'd made it a bit personal, this alien invasion.

"Mm."

Dib turned his head and buried his face in the clean blue pillow, tired of these ponderings. Just tired in general. The pillow, much like the bed, was wonderfully warm on this light Winter night. Snow fell in soft puffs, their shadows making a shaded appearance on the bedroom floor.

A tiny but almost traitorous thought pushed its way through Dib's consciousness, a product of days and days on end of precious time wasted. Wasted on that God-forsaken alien.

He had to admit, neither of them were getting anywhere in this game.

_Maybe he could forfeit, it wouldn't cost much._

* * *

><p>Burns, all over his superior skin, rubbed against his otherwise comfortable clothing and stung like no other. No work to finish when he returned to his base, nothing to stake his mind on for the time he healed. The mind of Zim, rampant, was not a great thing. Not at all.<p>

"Stupid black-wearing humans…" he muttered under his breath, tongue clicking irritably as he formed a far-fetched plan of revenge.

He almost felt the gravity of this wretched planet grow heavy on his slight frame at the very sight of his home. A bright red smear painted the right window in a twisted and violent fashion. Bits of what resembled brain matter splattered themselves up against the sheet of glass, fresh and slipping down again. It seemed gravity was effecting the sickening scene as well.

His dusty black boots hits the doormat with a thudding step, automatically reaching up to type quickly into an appearing keypad. The sight greeted Zim in such a fashion he took a step back, eyes widening exponentially. The remains of what seemed to have once been an Earthen mammal lay very still and very severely dead.

"GIR! This…this is disgusting."

His face twisted in tandem to the blunt words spat at his little robot. There was so much more red than blue of GIR's eyes that, for a second, Zim thought the unit was in duty mode.

"I know! Is great~" the little SIR squealed, jumping and inevitably slipping on slimy bodily fluids. He landed with a clinging smack in the puddle, laughing just a tad maniacally. His voice escalated octaves above anything a sane Irken would be able to stand.

"Be quiet!" Zim ordered, reaching up to grip his head with both hands. The noise was piercing straight into his brain, or at least if felt that way to the poor alien. If nothing, his demand only brought the laughter higher and higher and-

"Augh!" Giving up the most immature way possible, Zim marched over to his lift with a stormy pout. He still gripped his head in the pain of GIR's voice again rising impossibly.

A quick search of the rooms nearest the lift revealed no medicines for his burns, which were severe enough to warrant harsh complaints to himself and the dark-colored walls. But strangely he ignored the bigger problems, an issue he'd been avoiding since it had started.

His fingers hovered over a touch screen on the console, debating. Eyes, free of the oppressing contacts, narrowed in deliberation at the large empty monitor in front of him. He knew how the Tallest hated to be called, even when he had a report to give. They were so busy, much too busy to converse with even an Invader such as him.

Swiftly, the screen was pressed and the equivalent of a "Please Stand By" message appeared most likely just to make him angrily impatient. He tapped his fingers on the edge of the console for a full six minutes, frowning more in each unit of time.

The monitor flickered and changed to all the colors that meant a glimpse of a glimpse of home, all green skin and purple and red framing. Zim bowed his head and lowered his antennae in respective submission, only to burst forth with a tone that was anything but.

"My Tallest-" He is cut off, looking up in surprise. Zim has to force his antennae back down into their previous respectful pose.

"Not now, Zim. In fact, not ever. Things have gotten too busy over here," the very tall Irken in red armor relayed his thoughts distractedly. He wasn't even looking at the screen, at their little loyal Invader.

"But this is very impor-"

"I said not now. We've no time for this silly game, you /Defect,/ a war is approaching and you'll have no part in it. But…" Red smiled a curvy, twisted smile. "One more thing."

Game, game? What game? This was serious. This was- Zim eyes went wide and blank, like a blue screen for those humans' computers. He did not notice the screen go black and the base's power switch off. He did not hear the sound of GIR's lifeless body falling from some height onto the floor above him.

Game…Defection. Memories of past events in front of this very screen skimmed by, striking him, breaking little tiny pieces away from him and out to who-knows-where. He had known. He had known all too well, but that didn't mean he had to face it, ever.

Now Zim had to. Who was Zim? Certainly not Invader Zim…he was nothing. Because he was nothing to the Irken Armada, he was nothing.

A small crash interrupted this thinking. He turned to look at a piece of the ceiling that had fallen dangerously close with disinterest. His home was going to be torn shreds like Zim. Especially if he stayed. Why shouldn't he?

Spite, maybe? Another small explosive propelled a chuck of metal toward him and it skimmed his side, burning. He stumbled backwards without thought, all rationality gone. Just pure fear and confusion, no technology in his way to fight it. Even as his base, his home crumbled around him, he escaped.

He moved as if he could really run away.

"I am Zim…"

* * *

><p>Dib narrowed his eyes, stalking down the unusually neat, clean and quiet hallway. Zim had been away for many days, and the arrogant yelling was missed from this week. Maybe the alien was sick? Not that he cared. Maybe the Irken had some relatively large and elaborate plan? Not that it mattered.<p>

But he was curious.

Even Dib had added to the odd quiet that even seemed to unnerve the other students by evading classes that fifth day to…search, for lack of a better term. What he found wavered his resolve to ignore what the alien does, forfeit. Dib caught himself biting his lip in an unfamiliar type of anxiety. Certainly not for the alien that might be crushed amid this destruction and snowfall.

He tilted his head to the side, if only to get rid of this dangerous image, and blinked down at miniscule droplets of blood. Dib's mind filled in images of the green dripping from between the three fingers of his enemy's hand, and it was right. There wasn't much, but enough to follow when it was stark over the cement.

The further his long legs carried him, the more apprehension affected his expression. What would he find? Was it a trap? It was, wasn't it, holograms and faux blood and…

Even as the possible capture became evident, he kept walking, preparing a defense.

But the Zim he caught up to wasn't grinning the grin of potential victory, wasn't laughing at a fooled human. Far from laughter, the alien shivered in the cold without expression for Dib to decipher. Indistinct mumblings came from this sorrowful creature, a low keen sounding when the empty eyes came to rest on his enemy. Zim didn't recognize the obvious pity Dib took in him, starting to approach very slowly. There wasn't a comparison, Zim /was/ a trapped animal in his little corner of the alley.

Dib crouched next to Zim, flinching as he didn't expect the threatless hiss that followed. He growled back, hoping to be intimidating enough that he wouldn't be bitten or something. No need for violence, now.

"Get away, I am an Invader…I will hurt you…" he voiced tonelessly. Dib still sensed little threat in the alien's demeanor and ignored the words, reaching to pick him up out of the snow. An idea to turn him in was turned away. That would defeat the purpose of his resolutions to stop making a fuss.

Zim struggled and kicked as he is lifted away from the burning snow, knocking Dib off-balance and forcing him to try to become stable again against a wall. The Irken soon stilled as he ran out of energy, shivering more now that Dib's warmth contrasted the temperature outdoors.

Dib had to wait until he actually curled into the blue shirt, into the evil warmth that he wanted. The instinctual want didn't help in uncluttering his mind, and he lay in the human's arms almost obediently as he is taken somewhere unknown. Unknown and therefore not good, an idea poked at him.

This unknown turned out to be Dib's home, not some laboratory to be dissected. Zim couldn't see this, of course, his face buried into the human's chest like he was a couch, not his enemy.

Gaz didn't turn to look as they entered, her fingers clicking away at the various buttons on her game console.

"Dib!" She scowled at her game. "What are you doing with that things in the house? I'm not going to be the one getting the bloodstains out of the carpet."

Her brother blinked and glanced down at the nearly sedated alien. Oh, yes, the blood. That would need taken care of, before any more mess was made. He carried the light-weight upstairs and laid down a towel on his bed with no desire to wash blood from his sheets before setting Zim down. He curled up on it immediately, frustratingly silent even as Dib dressed the wound.

What the hell was wrong with him? Dib wondered, the one who this silence frustrated. He stayed with him that night, sleeping in his computer chair. He didn't trust even this odd Zim in his room alone, not for a second.

* * *

><p>After jolting awake, he looked Zim over suspiciously. He didn't seem to have moved at all, or slept. The magenta eyes seem fixed on the corner of his nightstand, or maybe a book on the bookshelf.<p>

Dib sighed and moved to try and get a response from his 'guest,' sitting cross-legged across from him. Just watching after his attempts failed. To his surprise, after a while, Zim sat up to face him. Memory glints in the once-faded magenta eyes as he reaches a weak gloved hand up to touch the human's chest with just fingertips.

"Dib?"


End file.
